


Just like falling snow (I love you. Don't you know?)

by bladeangel



Series: Witchertober 2020 [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Day 7 - snow, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, I promise, Literally this is just fluff wih like two sentances worth of angst, Snowball fights are as close to an action scene as i have written in several years, Snowball fights!, WAFF, Winter At Kaer Morhen, Witchertober (The Witcher), found family fluff, no beta we die like stregobore should have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeangel/pseuds/bladeangel
Summary: The residents of Kaer Morhen have a snowball fight.Fluff ensues.Thats it. Thats the fic.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witchertober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955281
Comments: 1
Kudos: 77





	Just like falling snow (I love you. Don't you know?)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Witchertober 2020 day 7. which was 'Snow'. I don't even know what to say. two fics in one day is a new record for me. Especially considering my previous update schedule was a one fic every year.

The first snowstorm of the season brought with it the true beginning of winters rest at Kaer Morhen. Denizens one and all of the old keep were expected to remain inside the castle itself, keeping busy with smaller tasks and occasionally venture out to check on the animals.

The first storm of the season had always meant peace for Geralt, or at least as close to it as he had ever managed. The pass would be completely blocked now, the old keep completely closed off from the troubles of rest of the world, until spring.

The Witchers could finally relax, knowing that their work for the year was done and all that was expected of them for the next few months were simple chores and the occasional dinner duty. Most of them would spend the dark mornings sleeping in, making the most of the peace and safety that proved scarce on the path, certain that any tasks that needed tending to, could wait for another few hours.

That was what Geralt had been doing, sleeping in that is, only to be woken up with the very first rays of the sun by shrieks of joy from the front courtyard. When the sleepy Witcher manged to drag himself to his window, he bore witness to Ciri nailing his lover in the head with an overlarge snowball.

Jaskier, to his credit, recovered quickly from where he dropped at the young princess’s blow. The bard quickly gathered a small handful of snowballs and began pelting Ciri as he made a break for one of the small tool-sheds that littered the courtyard. The princess, for her part, shrieked at the cold snow that hit her in the face, sliding down her cloak and soaking her shirt. Ciri retreated to a more defensible position, pushing together enough snow for Geralt to assume that she intended to create another one of the overlarge snowballs, he had seen her pelt Jaskier with.

His spectating interrupted by a knock on the door, Geralt opens it to be greeted by Lambert, who had on warm clothes, gloves, and a cloak. The younger Witcher bore a shit-eating grin, in his arms a pile of thick garments and a quick breakfast.

“C’mon, get dressed. The cub and your bard are having a snow fight, Vesemir wants us to get out there and take part.”

The statement was met with a raised brow

“Vesemir wants us all to go out and play in the snow?”

“Just the three of us,” Lambert snorted, “some shit about getting the Cub used to training and thinking tactically, without going through the full trainee treatment.”

Geralt remembered the trainee treatment, the short brutal weeks of acclimatation training potential Witchers were afforded before having to make The Choice.

“Looks like the old man’s going soft.”

Lambert barked out a short laugh, shocked at such snark from their school’s golden-boy. “Don’t let ‘im hear you say that, or we’ll be running the walls all winter.”

“Hmm.” Geralt grabbed the clothes from his brother’s hands, only stopping to snag some bread from the parcel on top before he started to change.

* * *

Once he had changed, Geralt joined the rest of his brothers where they stood at the door, watching their human companions’ antics. Eskel stood covered head to ankle in his waterproof cloak, under the hood he wore a woollen hat with flaps to protect his sensitive ears from the cold. Lamber bounced on the balls of his feet, golden eyes already working out angles of attack that would take advantage of the tricks he had picked up from his Cat friend.

“So, how are we doing this? Should we let them know what Vesemir wants us to do?”

“Nah, I say we surprise ‘em!”

“Not exactly fair is it? Two humans against three Witchers, with no warning.”

“Not in the least!”

The Witchers announced themselves by burying both Jaskier and Ciri under a torrent of snow, interrupting their stand-off in the centre of the courtyard. Both humans screeched in surprise at the sudden assault, though they quickly recovered and took to throwing blindly in the direction their attackers had come from.

Lambert took off cackling, climbing to higher ground, switching position every few second only to drop down out of nowhere and pelt any inattentive fighter with several snowballs in a row.

Eskel, on the other hand, took cover behind one of the sheds, working to create a stockpile of ammunition to spread out in little cubbies across the battlefield. Occasionally popping out to take pot shots, Eskel mostly focused on gearing up to outlast the rest of them, with caches and ample cover.

Geralt himself chose a more direct mode of assault, charging across the courtyard to grab his laughing daughter around the middle and toss her -gently, oh so gently, always careful with his cub- into a snowdrift: where she lay shrieking with delight as Jaskier took advantage of the opening to upend an entire bucket of snow over the distracted Witcher’s head.

Eskel in turn used of all three of their inattentiveness to begin his own assault. Moving from cover to cover and tossing handfuls of snow as he went. Catching Jaskier in the shoulder and Geralt in the side of the head. One throw even managed to hit Lambert in leg.

Ciri, on the other hand, capitalised on the ensuing confusion to carefully mould another of the large snowballs she favoured. The cub rolled her monstrosity aside, before running over to take pot shots at Lambert where he sat perched at the top of a wall. Ciri stood dead centre of the courtyard, a clear challenge for one of them to try hitting her.

A challenge Geralt gleefully accepted when he moved from his place pummelling his lover to charge at his giggling cub, intent on tossing her into another drift and draw that same breathless laughter again. Except, his daughter, who had seemed content to stand still and toss the odd snowball his way, decided to finally dodge, sidestepping Geralt’s charge and revealing the large snowball she had hidden behind the bulk of her cloak.

A snowball Geralt became well-acquainted with, as he found that stones beneath his feet were far too slippery to halt his forward momentum, causing the feared white wolf to ram headfirst into the ridiculously large snowball, leaving his upper half buried in the monstrosity. To add insult to injury Geralt felt a small snowball strike him on him on his left cheek, joined soon enough by another to his right. Courtesy of Lambert based on the cackling Geralt could hear.

Geralt growled in irritation as he clawed his way out of the snow, taking another hit to the back of his head in the process - Lambert again no doubt. An assumption that proved correct when Geralt finally caught sight of Ciri, Jaskier and Eskel, all of them absolutely covered in snow and melting slush from the traps Lambert had set up while they were preoccupied with attacking each other.

Geralt caught the others attention with a short wave of his arm and pointed towards the youngest wolf’s hiding place, less inconspicuous now that Lambert’s gleeful cackling gave it away. They shared a calculating glance, weighing up whether enough of them would be able to clear the ascent fast enough to take the laughing Witcher off guard. At Ciri’s silent count the whole group charged Lambert’s position, dodging the still giggling Witchers sloppy throws, their own snowballs held up ready to wreak revenge.

* * *

By the time the sun had reached its peak they were all beginning to trudge back into the great hall. They were all cold and dripping as they entered the fire-warmed halls, to be greeted by scolding Vesemir and a quietly laughing Yennefer. Sent off to change into dry clothes and told to come down and eat lunch before.

Geralt relished the stew Vesemir had no doubt spent the entire morning preparing, hearty and spiced and warm. And yet he could not lie to himself and say that most of the warmth he felt sitting at that table did not come from the presence of his loved one. His father and his brothers and Yennefer (who was now his friend) and Jaskier, his lover. And most important of all Ciri, his cub, his child in all but blood.

At the other end of the table a small food fight broke out, Ciri and Yennefer used their spoons to launch peas at Lambert and Jaskier, who returned fire with pieces of cheese and globs of butter. The two caught Eskel in their crossfire, who barely raised his head from his bowl to blindly throw some spare cheese. Geralt dodged a piece headed his way and retaliated by tossing a bread roll at Eskel’s head. Eliciting a squawk of outrage from his brother.

Satisfied in his revenge, Geralt sat back and soaked in the joyful mess of sound that was all of the people he loved, here together under one roof, in the closest place Geralt had to a home.

Here, cut off from the rest of the world by a heavy blanket of snow, his family was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> On the one hand I live for TAD lyrics. On the other hand finding something fluffy was a teensy bit hard, hence the altered welly boots lyrics.  
> I'm aiming to hit ten prompts by the end of the month, with a bonus one I've already got halfway written. but we'll see how things turn out I guess?  
> I've been on a bit of an angst train recently, so I essentially forced myself to try and write something more fluffy and sweet. This is the result. Sorry if its not exactly what you would consider! I'm not used to writing happy things to be honest! Please feel free to give me feedback in the comments! I really want to improve! I literally write these things and then post them within an hour of finishing them, so I have ALOT to improve on.


End file.
